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rheasilviaDisclaimer: Not mine. No harm, no foul.
Story notes: This is an AU. Gen, no rating. Feedback of all types - positive and negative - is much appreciated.
Spoilers: 1x12 ("Faith") – in fact, the story will not make sense to anyone who hasn't seen this episode.
Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
solo____, k_julia, xkatjafx, gwendolen, without_me, tommybarbarella, and chaneen. Again, thank you very much! You all helped me enormously.
Last Truce
by Sylvia
Dean never stops whining about his stupid car.
"That car was a classic," he whines. "I loved that car. Seriously, man, you shouldn't have done that."
Sam ignores him. They have a new car now, bought cheap off a grateful client. Sam always drives, and they usually drive at night.
Dean thinks this is stupid, on both counts. "Did anything Dad taught you stick in your brain, college boy?"
Driver makes the rules.
When Sam reminds his brother of this, Dean harrumphs and looks out the side window in a classic sulk, too-long eyelashes and obstinate set of the jaw making him look weirdly young. But soon his shoulders relax and his posture eases, and he leans back into the seat and looks over at Sam thoughtfully, and Sam knows he's been forgiven. In another couple of minutes Dean will come out with something entirely unrelated and probably concerned with the bloodthirsty creature they're heading towards.
It's easy to be forgiven by Dean. It's always been easy, and that, at least, hasn't changed. Even the big things… Give him some time to cool down and Dean will relent, and not even make you pay for it, or not more than you can afford.
Sam's different. Sam can't let go – he never could. Maybe it's because he's selfish.
He must be, because he'd do it all again without the slightest hesitation.
They find a motel just before dawn. Dean looks worn-out and pale in the dim pre-morning light, and Sam reaches out without thinking. But Dean gives him a smile, and his shoulder is reassuringly solid beneath Sam's hand.
"So, you think it's a ghoul?" Sam asks once he's settled into bed. When Dean doesn't answer, Sam turns over and goes to sleep. There'll be time enough to talk this over when they hit the road tonight.
He wakes with a start, Dean's silver knife in hand. Dean snorts and jostles the bed again; he's wearing the same things he always does, hair brushed and gelled in the usual stylish spiky way. Dean's always been vain.
"Dude," Dean says before Sam can do anything but swing his feet over the edge of the bed. "You shouldn't have done that to my car."
"Yeah, I should have," he says, and Dean stares at him accusingly and sulks for a while.
***
It turns out the thing that's been snacking on people isn't a ghoul, after all. It's not a zombie, either, or a vampire, or anything that Sam knows; it's more like a cross between the two, from what they gather from Dad's journal. Because yes, of course there's an entry on whatever it is, even if neither Sam nor Dean can pronounce its name. Sam is pretty sure it's misspelled in some way. Wiederschmätzer? Seriously.
They dub it Jaws instead.
Dean waits outside the cemetery gates. Sam goes in to burn the shroud. The earth is undisturbed by the dead thing's rising, but even so the grave is impossible to miss; Jaws has a habit of chewing on things, and no table manners to speak of. It's at home when Sam breaks open the coffin, and for a couple of minutes it looks like an easy kill, but Sam's hand is slippery with sweat and dirt and the various stinking fluids leaking from Jaws' rotting body, and he slips. His cross clatters to the ground, Jaws makes a break for it, and Sam tumbles into the open grave and the utterly disgusting coffin.
By the time he's clawed out of the mess of decaying flesh and tangled, chewed-up shroud, Jaws is almost on top of Dean.
It has more teeth than anything that used to be human has a right to. Sam gets a good look as it opens up to bite Dean's head off.
Things get a bit confused, but Sam remembers his own voice screaming, and Dean standing unnaturally still with a weird look on his face, and too many sharp teeth and a flash of really bright light and the sound of a Wiederschmätzer shrieking.
Dean is still standing in the same spot, his face in shadow, when Sam barrels through the cemetery gates. He's looking down at the unmoving heap that used to be a walking corpse, and Sam hesitates for a moment, but he's scared and shaking and even if it's stupid and he knows it he reaches out anyway to assure himself that nothing happened to Dean.
Nothing did happen to Dean, of course, and Sam knew that already, but even so Dean allows him to draw a filthy hand along his neck. The skin is smooth and cool to the touch.
"Man," Dean says a moment later. "Did you see that? Was that cool or what?"
The edge to Sam's laugh sounds slightly hysterical in his own ears, but it really was cool, so he just agrees and doesn't ask any questions.
***
"Sam," Dean says, and he doesn't even have to finish the sentence.
Sam sighs. "You're never going to let it go, are you?"
It's a stupid thing to say – he's pretty sure Dean can't let it go, couldn't even if he wanted to. There are rules to this kind of thing, and they've never spoken about it, but given everything, Sam can take a pretty good guess at some of them.
He glances over at Dean, and sure enough, Dean is giving him a look that makes him flush with embarrassment.
After a moment, Dean relents unexpectedly, looking away to watch the night pass by behind the window. When he speaks again his voice is soft, almost gentle. "You could always say you're sorry."
"I'm not sorry!" It comes out harshly and rather aggressively, and the reflection of Dean's face closes down into a frown.
Sam breathes deeply for a couple of miles before he trusts himself to speak again. He knows he should ask, because he knows he should be able to let go. "Do you want me to apologize?"
Dean doesn't answer right away.
Sam isn't sure he can apologize, if Dean asks him to. He should. He knows Dean would, in his place. But there's abstract ideals like right and wrong, and there's situations where abstracts just don't apply, because other things are more important.
For example... If Sam had been the one to see the reaper, not Dean – if Sam had been the one to realize that all Le Grange was doing was exchanging one life for another – he would not have stopped the man. Not before he healed Dean. Sam knows this about himself now, and he's less bothered by the knowledge than he suspects he should be.
But Dean is not like Sam. The rage and grief of it burn in Sam even now, and his hands tighten on the steering wheel.
He can feel the weight of Dean's attention on him – he always could, but it's stronger now, almost like a physical touch. It's probably something to do with Sam's Shining. Either that, or it's just his imagination.
Dean's smile is the same it's always been, even when nothing else is. He reaches over to ruffle Sam's hair, and duly ignores Sam's protest. "Whatever, Sammy. You gotta do what you gotta do."
This is all that's left. He'll do whatever he has to in order to keep it. He thinks he'd keep Dean here even if he wanted to go, and the relief that Dean will not force him to find out for sure is strong enough to lodge in his chest like pain.
Take care of that car, Dean had said. Or else.
Sam remembers the feel of the crowbar in his hands, the sound of glass shattering, the dull impact of metal on metal. He'd taken the crowbar to the motor after smashing the headlights and windows, and by the time he'd moved on, it had been only a twisted, stinking lump dribbling oil, water and gas. Last, he'd smashed the tape deck and broken apart every last one of Dean's cassettes, reeling out Twisted Sister and Skynyrd and Nazareth in long, gleaming tangles that he'd ground into the shards and oil and gasoline with his shoes. If he'd thought to bring a lighter, he would have set fire to the wreckage right there in the hospital parking lot.
"Thanks," Sam mumbles, and blinks a little until his vision is clear again. Dean pretends he's been looking out the window all along.
Sam never could let go.
Story notes: This is an AU. Gen, no rating. Feedback of all types - positive and negative - is much appreciated.
Spoilers: 1x12 ("Faith") – in fact, the story will not make sense to anyone who hasn't seen this episode.
Betaed by
solo____, k_julia, xkatjafx, gwendolen, without_me, tommybarbarella, and chaneen. Again, thank you very much! You all helped me enormously. Last Truce
by Sylvia
Dean never stops whining about his stupid car.
"That car was a classic," he whines. "I loved that car. Seriously, man, you shouldn't have done that."
Sam ignores him. They have a new car now, bought cheap off a grateful client. Sam always drives, and they usually drive at night.
Dean thinks this is stupid, on both counts. "Did anything Dad taught you stick in your brain, college boy?"
Driver makes the rules.
When Sam reminds his brother of this, Dean harrumphs and looks out the side window in a classic sulk, too-long eyelashes and obstinate set of the jaw making him look weirdly young. But soon his shoulders relax and his posture eases, and he leans back into the seat and looks over at Sam thoughtfully, and Sam knows he's been forgiven. In another couple of minutes Dean will come out with something entirely unrelated and probably concerned with the bloodthirsty creature they're heading towards.
It's easy to be forgiven by Dean. It's always been easy, and that, at least, hasn't changed. Even the big things… Give him some time to cool down and Dean will relent, and not even make you pay for it, or not more than you can afford.
Sam's different. Sam can't let go – he never could. Maybe it's because he's selfish.
He must be, because he'd do it all again without the slightest hesitation.
They find a motel just before dawn. Dean looks worn-out and pale in the dim pre-morning light, and Sam reaches out without thinking. But Dean gives him a smile, and his shoulder is reassuringly solid beneath Sam's hand.
"So, you think it's a ghoul?" Sam asks once he's settled into bed. When Dean doesn't answer, Sam turns over and goes to sleep. There'll be time enough to talk this over when they hit the road tonight.
He wakes with a start, Dean's silver knife in hand. Dean snorts and jostles the bed again; he's wearing the same things he always does, hair brushed and gelled in the usual stylish spiky way. Dean's always been vain.
"Dude," Dean says before Sam can do anything but swing his feet over the edge of the bed. "You shouldn't have done that to my car."
"Yeah, I should have," he says, and Dean stares at him accusingly and sulks for a while.
***
It turns out the thing that's been snacking on people isn't a ghoul, after all. It's not a zombie, either, or a vampire, or anything that Sam knows; it's more like a cross between the two, from what they gather from Dad's journal. Because yes, of course there's an entry on whatever it is, even if neither Sam nor Dean can pronounce its name. Sam is pretty sure it's misspelled in some way. Wiederschmätzer? Seriously.
They dub it Jaws instead.
Dean waits outside the cemetery gates. Sam goes in to burn the shroud. The earth is undisturbed by the dead thing's rising, but even so the grave is impossible to miss; Jaws has a habit of chewing on things, and no table manners to speak of. It's at home when Sam breaks open the coffin, and for a couple of minutes it looks like an easy kill, but Sam's hand is slippery with sweat and dirt and the various stinking fluids leaking from Jaws' rotting body, and he slips. His cross clatters to the ground, Jaws makes a break for it, and Sam tumbles into the open grave and the utterly disgusting coffin.
By the time he's clawed out of the mess of decaying flesh and tangled, chewed-up shroud, Jaws is almost on top of Dean.
It has more teeth than anything that used to be human has a right to. Sam gets a good look as it opens up to bite Dean's head off.
Things get a bit confused, but Sam remembers his own voice screaming, and Dean standing unnaturally still with a weird look on his face, and too many sharp teeth and a flash of really bright light and the sound of a Wiederschmätzer shrieking.
Dean is still standing in the same spot, his face in shadow, when Sam barrels through the cemetery gates. He's looking down at the unmoving heap that used to be a walking corpse, and Sam hesitates for a moment, but he's scared and shaking and even if it's stupid and he knows it he reaches out anyway to assure himself that nothing happened to Dean.
Nothing did happen to Dean, of course, and Sam knew that already, but even so Dean allows him to draw a filthy hand along his neck. The skin is smooth and cool to the touch.
"Man," Dean says a moment later. "Did you see that? Was that cool or what?"
The edge to Sam's laugh sounds slightly hysterical in his own ears, but it really was cool, so he just agrees and doesn't ask any questions.
***
"Sam," Dean says, and he doesn't even have to finish the sentence.
Sam sighs. "You're never going to let it go, are you?"
It's a stupid thing to say – he's pretty sure Dean can't let it go, couldn't even if he wanted to. There are rules to this kind of thing, and they've never spoken about it, but given everything, Sam can take a pretty good guess at some of them.
He glances over at Dean, and sure enough, Dean is giving him a look that makes him flush with embarrassment.
After a moment, Dean relents unexpectedly, looking away to watch the night pass by behind the window. When he speaks again his voice is soft, almost gentle. "You could always say you're sorry."
"I'm not sorry!" It comes out harshly and rather aggressively, and the reflection of Dean's face closes down into a frown.
Sam breathes deeply for a couple of miles before he trusts himself to speak again. He knows he should ask, because he knows he should be able to let go. "Do you want me to apologize?"
Dean doesn't answer right away.
Sam isn't sure he can apologize, if Dean asks him to. He should. He knows Dean would, in his place. But there's abstract ideals like right and wrong, and there's situations where abstracts just don't apply, because other things are more important.
For example... If Sam had been the one to see the reaper, not Dean – if Sam had been the one to realize that all Le Grange was doing was exchanging one life for another – he would not have stopped the man. Not before he healed Dean. Sam knows this about himself now, and he's less bothered by the knowledge than he suspects he should be.
But Dean is not like Sam. The rage and grief of it burn in Sam even now, and his hands tighten on the steering wheel.
He can feel the weight of Dean's attention on him – he always could, but it's stronger now, almost like a physical touch. It's probably something to do with Sam's Shining. Either that, or it's just his imagination.
Dean's smile is the same it's always been, even when nothing else is. He reaches over to ruffle Sam's hair, and duly ignores Sam's protest. "Whatever, Sammy. You gotta do what you gotta do."
This is all that's left. He'll do whatever he has to in order to keep it. He thinks he'd keep Dean here even if he wanted to go, and the relief that Dean will not force him to find out for sure is strong enough to lodge in his chest like pain.
Take care of that car, Dean had said. Or else.
Sam remembers the feel of the crowbar in his hands, the sound of glass shattering, the dull impact of metal on metal. He'd taken the crowbar to the motor after smashing the headlights and windows, and by the time he'd moved on, it had been only a twisted, stinking lump dribbling oil, water and gas. Last, he'd smashed the tape deck and broken apart every last one of Dean's cassettes, reeling out Twisted Sister and Skynyrd and Nazareth in long, gleaming tangles that he'd ground into the shards and oil and gasoline with his shoes. If he'd thought to bring a lighter, he would have set fire to the wreckage right there in the hospital parking lot.
"Thanks," Sam mumbles, and blinks a little until his vision is clear again. Dean pretends he's been looking out the window all along.
Sam never could let go.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 06:38 pm (UTC)I think anyone who's lost someone they loved secretly (or not) wishes that the person could come back and "haunt" them.
Dean's smile is the same it's always been, even when nothing else is. Sniff!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 08:54 pm (UTC)Sorry about that - but to be honest, I'm extremely flattered that the story touched you that much!
And yes, in Sam's shoes, I would do exactly the same thing.
Thanks for the lovely feedback! :-) I'll definitely see what I can do about writing more.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 06:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 07:01 pm (UTC)I'm stupid, you know. I was so upset about the Metallicar that I really didn't get what you were constructing there before I read the comments. And then I read the story again, more attentively. Sometimes it's more difficult to NOT write something.
A very beautiful story, and very much like Sam I'd say. :)
Just one question: "Wiederschmätzer"? What's that supposed to be/mean?
wieder = again; schmatzen = smacking your lips when eating
re-smacker?
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 09:54 pm (UTC)Oh, is it ever! I spent *weeks* fiddling with this story in the attempt of finding the thin line between total obscurity and the wooden hammer. And I know I could have done it better still... but I do hope it worked for you the second time around, undistracted by the death of the Metallicar. ;-)
A very beautiful story, and very much like Sam I'd say. :)
Thank you - I'm very glad you like it! :-)
Just one question: "Wiederschmätzer"? What's that supposed to be/mean?
You've hit the nail right on the head with your translation. A Wiederschmätzer is a precursor to the "modern" vampire - almost entirely unknown these days. It's an undead ex-human that chews on its shroud loudly in its grave, and does a few other creepy things. So, basically something that's come back again and is noisily smacking/eating. *g*
(no subject)
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Date: 2006-05-14 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 09:57 pm (UTC)*g* Exactly! Even if Dean really called it upon himself... or so Sam likes to think. ;-)
I'm glad you like the story!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 08:05 pm (UTC)Expert development of the story and subtle hinting at what really happened, just teasing us with the details and making us figure it out ourselves. That's the best kind of story to read.
Poor Sammy. Poor Dean. Poor car.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 10:01 pm (UTC)Ooh, it's wonderful that worked so well for you - because while that was exactly what I was trying to do, I really couldn't tell if it was going to work for readers. I am extremely glad it did work for you! Thanks for letting me know you liked the story!
And yes, Poor Sammy, and poor Dean... the car probably got the best deal here.
(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 08:59 pm (UTC)Thank you:)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 11:11 pm (UTC)And if it had gone wrong... I doubt Sam would have wanted to keep driving the Impala, anyway. But, yes. Poor Sam.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-15 12:38 am (UTC)Just as an addition, I found the imagery of Sam taking his rage and grief out on the car as particularly breathtaking and simultaneously gutwrenching. Amazing writing.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-15 03:20 pm (UTC)Thank you for letting me know you enjoyed the story!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-16 07:28 pm (UTC)Wonderful story, I loved the ending--the imagery is so good! My favorite lines would have to be "Sam isn't sure he can apologize, if Dean asks him to. He should. He knows Dean would, in his place. But there's abstract ideals like right and wrong, and there's situations where abstracts just don't apply, because other things are more important." just because it's so true! Those boys just tear me to pieces.
Is it September yet? :)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-18 10:17 am (UTC)Is it September yet? :)
We wish! :-) Ah well, all the more time for writing and reading fanfiction.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 11:33 pm (UTC)That was masterfully done. All about show, not tell. Fantastic work. I'm friending you, and hoping to catch more of your fic.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-18 10:24 am (UTC)I'm very glad indeed to hear the story worked for you, and in precisely that way, because it was exactly what I was hoping to do. :-)
Thank you very much for your lovely feedback! As for more fic, I tend to be a glacially slow writer, but it looks like I'll have to write at least one more story in this particular AU universe anyway (because I promised a friend *g*) - though that will be a really weird one. ;-) And we'll see what happens after that!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-18 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-18 10:41 am (UTC)Me too, definitely... I don't blame Sam at all. And maybe Sam would claim that it was Dean's own fault - he really should have known better than to give Sam ideas. ;-)
Thank you for your lovely feedback! I probably shouldn't be glad that the story made you sad - but truthfully, I am, because it's a wonderful compliment that it was able to touch you so much. :-)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-01 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-08 01:50 pm (UTC)It's not flashy or particularly memorable... but I like it, too. :-)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-13 03:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-16 12:34 am (UTC)And fancy meeting you in this fandom. *g* Strange how Supernatural seems to be slowly accumulating the old XF crowd... here's hoping the trend continues. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 08:31 pm (UTC)Damn.
That was scary actually.
Well done.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 11:02 pm (UTC)Thank you for your lovely feedback!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 07:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 03:22 pm (UTC)I take that as a high compliment indeed. :-) Thank you! I'm very glad to hear the story worked so well for you. It's particularly wonderful that the characterization rang true to you, because that's always one of the highest priorities - if not the highest - for me. I'm also very, very glad that it managed to pack an emotional punch!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-06 06:56 pm (UTC)Great work!! Thanks for sharing this!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 02:25 pm (UTC)It's great to hear you enjoyed the story so much - thank you very much for letting me know!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-07-11 12:29 pm (UTC)I think it’s just brilliant how Dean’s words in the Hospital in Faith inspired this story. I’m still somewhat disappointed I haven’t remembered this sentence about the car when I first read the first version of last Truce. Even without catching this the story worked, though I didn’t quite get the logic of Sam trashing the car and I’ve been reading some parts of the dialog a little differently. But now in this final version with the added sentence the story is perfect. I think I finally got all the nuances and meanings of the dialog. :-)
I really like the way you characterised Dean. It’s pretty much the way I see him so that’s quite helpful, but I just love how his character works in the story and how you used the descriptions and dialog to bring Dean to life.
Dean’s unconditional, unquestionable loyalty is just beautiful and beautifully captured in this story. Though it’s not making life and death easy for Dean. On the other hand it’s all he’s got - all that he made himself believe he’s got.
And Dean just isn’t cut out to be a vengeful spirit. His sulking and whining about his car on a once a day basis is really cute. *g* And not that much of a difference to Dean alive. Sam is really lucky. But I think he once again just took it for granted that Dean as a ghost would just be there for him and would never really hurt him.
Actually I quite like Sam’s characterisation as well. The way he realises how selfish he is, but can’t stop himself. But at least he noticed what Dean is doing for him and thanked him.
Also I noticed that it really helps the mood of the whole story that it is written in sort of reminiscence. “Deans always been vain. He’s always been easy to forgive etc.” I think I noticed this way of writing, giving a reflection of character traits or habits, in some of your other stories. But I get the feeling this is always done from a specific POV that has to be taken in account and that makes it interesting. And in Last Truce it is really fitting, sending off vibes that Dean’s dead and creating a sort of silently, soft, sad mood. Although since I’m reading this as a Sam POV, this reflective mode makes Sam seem somewhat more perceptive than I usually give him credit for *g*.
It’s been really great to reread Last Truce after some time has passed. It made me appreciate the story even more!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-13 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-11 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-13 04:59 pm (UTC)And it's so sweet too. :)
Yes, it is rather sweet, in that very peculiar Winchester way, isn't it? *g*
I'm very glad you liked the story - thanks for letting me know!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 12:40 am (UTC)And btw - I love your icon. That face! *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-29 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 04:30 am (UTC)That makes my heart hurt.
*sniffles*
It's damn good, but oh-so-hurty.
And Sam destroying the car...
*sniffle*
And not being able to let go. Because.
Wow, just excellent.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 11:38 am (UTC)It's damn good, but oh-so-hurty.
Yeah... Supernatural brings out the angst in spades. When canon makes the characters cry on a regular basis, what's a fic author to do? *g*
And not being able to let go. Because.
They're both obsessive, but in very different ways, as I see them.
There's been a number of new eps since I wrote this. Many aspects of Sam&Dean's characters have been deepened, the characterization as a whole has broadened, and of course they've both grown and changed with what happened to them. But - the basic characterization hasn't shifted, in my eyes.
(Characterization is really one of the greatest strengths of this show. But that's a different topic. *g*)
And - heh! Your icon fits perfectly. :-)
(no subject)
From:Last Truce
Date: 2007-08-19 01:46 am (UTC)Re: Last Truce
Date: 2007-08-21 02:02 pm (UTC)I love that Sam would take him at his word.
That you gotta do what you gotta do? Yeah - and in terms of taking Dean at his word on this, it does help considerably that Sam really *wants* to beieve Dean's more or less okay with all of this. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2007-08-19 05:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-21 02:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-25 08:39 pm (UTC)It's easy to be forgiven by Dean. It's always been easy, and that, at least, hasn't changed. Even the big things… Give him some time to cool down and Dean will relent, and not even make you pay for it, or not more than you can afford.
Sam's different. Sam can't let go – he never could. Maybe it's because he's selfish.
He must be, because he'd do it all again without the slightest hesitation.
That part was my favourite. It says so much about them and hence why they act like they do.
Altogether a marvellous little gem. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 11:27 am (UTC)I'm very glad! It's selfish and ruthless and may not fit everybody's idea of Sam, but to my mind, it does work... and I'm happy to hear that it works for you, too. :-)
I love that Dean isn't giving him hell about it.
So does Sam... though he does also feel guilty, because in some ways it is far *too* easy to be forgiven by Dean.
Altogether a marvellous little gem.
*blush* Thank you very much! It's great you enjoyed the story. :-)
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From: